


Fully Alive

by Furious_Winter



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furious_Winter/pseuds/Furious_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Rick lives, only for he and Kieren to deal with a past that seems overwhelming- and an uncertain, frightening future. For the present, all they can do is pick up the pieces as they try to figure out where everything fits in; and maybe, they might find that there's a place for them in the world after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fully Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhoen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/gifts).



> "fully alive  
> more than most  
> ready to smile  
> and love life"
> 
> ~Flyleaf

_“Remember,” his father coached Rick again, sensing his nervousness, “just act like everything is normal.”_

_Rick couldn’t believe it had really come this far. He kept looking for a way out, any way out of murdering his best mate. Bill had instructed him on precisely how to do it, too. Just a casual handshake, a friendly greeting, and then…_

_“You’ll be making me proud, son.”_

_Rick looked over to his father, who was smiling at him. And it was so, so very much of what he wanted- his father’s approval, his love and his acceptance. Weakly, Rick smiled back at him. He felt on the verge of panic and desperately hoped that Ren had gotten his message, his warning of what was about to happen. He didn’t want it to end like this, but was powerless to stop it if that’s what his dad wanted._ Right? _If he didn’t do it himself, his dad would finish the job, one way or another. It was only a matter of time._

_They turned onto Ren’s street, headed down to the little cul-de-sac where the Walkers lived. His stomach, what remained of it, was in knots. Surely, there had to be some other way. Maybe he could talk his father into letting Ren leave town. Maybe if he swore to never see him again. Maybe if he could show his father that he and Ren were exactly alike… in so many ways._

_Bill pulled into the Walkers’ driveway, stopped the truck and shut it off. “Alright, just like I told you.” He motioned for Rick to get out of the vehicle, and for a moment Rick hesitated. This was his chance. He could reason with his father, even plead with him if he had to. There had to be another way. Bill scowled, impatient. “Well, get on with it, then!”_

_Rick let out an uneasy sigh and nodded, got out and approached the Walkers’ front door. He reached a finger up to the doorbell, his hand unsteady, and pressed it. With his other hand, he felt around his back to the snugly sheathed knife in his waistband. A few seconds passed, then a dozen._ Maybe they aren’t home. Maybe he got me message, skipped town. _He rapped on the door before ringing the bell again, praying that no one would answer. He turned his head to look back at his father in the truck, seeking some sort of advice on what to do. His chest felt tight and his breathing was erratic. Bill’s face looked like thunder, and after waiting a moment more, he got out of the vehicle himself._

_“Try the door.” he told him. “See if it’s open.”_

_Rick obeyed, grabbing the knob and giving it a soft turn, and he felt the anxiety drain from him when he found it to be locked._ They’re not home, _he thought._ Ren’s not home, and if he is, it means he got me message. 

_“Bloody luck.” his father spat, scowling._

_Rick tried to hide his sense of relief, just giving a slight nod._

_And then, out of the corner of his eye, movement. He turned to look down to the end of the driveway. There, Ren had stopped, clearly shocked to see him and his father standing in his driveway. Ren stared at Rick, then glanced to Bill before looking back at him again._ Why isn’t he running? Doesn’t he know? _Rick began to walk towards him, slowly at first and then picking up pace._

_Kieren took a timid step back. “Rick…”_

_“Hey, mate!” He tried to sound cheerful, like nothing at all was out of the ordinary, but as he got closer he could see in Ren’s eyes that he knew something was amiss._ He looks frightened. _The realization tore at him as he held out a shaky hand to his friend, his best mate, even shakier than when he’d first seen him again at the Legion when there, before him, was the one person he’d wanted to see more than anyone else, the boy he thought was dead; the boy that he now knew had killed himself because he’d gone away, because he’d died and left him alone._

_Ren looked down at his outstretched, tremulous hand. He glanced up to Rick, and then back down to his hand as he slowly reached out to take it. Like instinct, Rick pulled him in and spun him around just like his father had told him, but he couldn’t bring himself to grab the knife. Instead, he just held him there. Ren didn’t try to resist, didn’t try to pull away and said nothing at all. Ren only trembled, trembled against him and it shattered his heart. Rick fought back tears and his voice cracked in a whisper, “Run, Ren.” He released his arm, and Ren just remained there, still as stone. “RUN!” he yelled as he gave him a firm push. Ren stumbled forward, looked back at Rick and then to his father._

_From behind him, he heard Bill. “Pathetic.”_

_Rick turned to see his father reach into the back of the pickup, grabbing his rifle. His voice dripped with lividity, “I’ll do it if you won’t.”_

_He heard Ren’s footfalls as he began to run off. Rick shouted, “NO!” Limping forward, he tried to stop his father, but Bill easily tripped his good leg out from under him and sent him sprawling onto the pavement. As he tried to pick himself up, struggling after his father, Rick watched as he marched out into the middle of the road. Bill took aim, and as he tried to reach him the gun went off like a bomb. He looked down the street just in time to see Ren stumble and slow down from the impact of the shot before regaining his gait._

_Bill cursed and cocked his rifle for another shot. Rick threw himself at him, latching onto the gun and pointing it up to the air as he fought with his father for control. Again, Bill bested him and threw him to the ground, much harder this time. Now, his father stared down at him, his face scrunched up as if he didn’t know exactly what he was looking at._

_“Always taking up for him, protecting him.” And then, Rick saw the resolve in his father’s face. “Vicar Oddie was right. You’re not my real son. Not the_ real _Rick.” He lifted his gun and aimed it at him. “You’re an impostor!”_

_Rick raised an open hand, pleading, “Dad…”_

BOOM.

_Bill stumbled forward, his eyes wide. The rifle fell to the ground and then he to his knees before finally slumping over, wheezing. Ken Burton stood behind him, his shotgun barrel smoking. Rick was breathless, unable to process what had just happened, that he was still alive and his father-_

_Ken slowly lowered the barrel, his expression sullen and hard, and then he turned and calmly walked back toward his house as if he’d simply come out to fetch the morning paper. Beside him, his father continued wheezing. Rick looked into his eyes and he briefly thought he saw something like regret, but then his wheezing stopped and he realized that it was only an empty stare; a dead, blank, meaningless stare._

_It was almost too much to comprehend, but all he could think about at the moment was Ren._ Me dad, he shot him... _Rick drug himself to his feet and, leaving his father behind, hobbled after Ren. “Ren!” he nearly screamed. “Kieren!” Looking around fervently as he neared the end of the street, he didn’t see him anywhere and strained his thoughts to think of where he might have gone._

_Only one place came to mind._

_Reaching the cave felt like forever, his bum leg slowing him down as he stumbled, tripped and clawed his way up the hills, into the forest and finally to the clearing, his thoughts and fears eating at him the entire while._ What is Ren thinking? What does he feel? Betrayed? Hurt? Angry? ...Afraid? _The last possibility hurt him the most. He could deal with it and understand if Ren felt he’d betrayed him, if he was hurt by him, and certainly, especially, if he was angry with him._ ...But afraid? 

_Rick wanted to be the last person on earth that Ren feared._

_Exhausted but filled with some semblance of adrenaline, Rick approached the mouth of the cave and felt relieved when he saw candlelight emanating from within. He placed a hand against the entrance and looked inside, seeing Ren sitting just where they used to, his head leant against the wall. He nearly sobbed, “Ren.” But Ren didn’t respond. Rick’s chest felt like it might implode as he stumbled forward. “Ren… I’m so sorry.” No response. “Ren?” He quickened his pace as much as he could. “Kieren!” he called out, and still…_

_Rick tripped and fell to the stony floor just short of him. When he looked up at Ren, he seemed lifeless. “Ren? Ren!” He flailed towards him, and as he grasped Ren’s shoulders his head fell to the side, his father’s knife sticking out the back._

_“What…” Rick felt around to his belt, to the knife that should still be there, but wasn’t. He grabbed Ren’s shoulders and began to shake him. “Wake up,” he croaked out as he shook him, harder and harder._ “Kieren!” _he screamed._

_And then Ren’s head jerked up, his eyes boring into him. Rick froze, both shocked and-_

_Ren pushed him over to the ground, pouncing on top of him. “Rick!” he shouted, but it wasn’t Ren’s voice. “Rick, wake up!”_

Rick opened his eyes to look up at his mother. “Rick?” she softly asked as he blinked himself back into reality. “You were having a nightmare.” 

He swallowed and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement as he caught his breath. The dream had been so vivid, so incredibly real. The familiar, damp, musky odor of the cave still lingered in his nose; the feeling of Kieren’s limp, dead body in his arms... and his eyes. _God, his eyes._

Janet sat on the bed next to him and ran a caring hand through his hair. She already knew the answer as she asked, “Is everything alright, love?”

He looked her in the face, and it was only when he saw tears in her eyes that he felt them in his own. Rick embraced her and began to cry into her shoulder. He whispered, “I’m a monster.”

“No,” her breath shook with his, “no, you’re not. You’re my sweet, handsome boy.” She lightly swayed from side to side while she held him just like she used to when he was younger. Janet shushed him, “It’s alright, ‘salright.” 

He felt like a child, crying in front of his mother like this. _If me dad could see me now…_

Her voice cracked, “I miss him too.”

 _She thinks I’m upset over Dad,_ he realized. Not wanting to distress her further than he already had, he hugged her a bit more firmly before gradually pulling away and clasping her hands in his, ignoring how alarmingly warm they felt to him. “I love you, Mum.”

“And I love you.” Her eyes welled further as she smiled at him, tenderly fixing his hair. “Would you like something to drink? Something to settle you down?”

Rick almost chuckled. Nearly four days since he’d come home, she still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that he could no longer eat or drink. It was tantamount to a crisis for her as she’d always enjoyed trying to fatten him up, his insatiable teenage appetite a challenge she eagerly accepted. “No,” he shook his head, “thank you.” 

“Well,” she smoothed out her night gown and stood, “try to get some rest.” She frowned now. “Tomorrow is…” As her voice trailed off, she closed her eyes. 

Rick saved her from having to say it. “I will,” he lied. She nodded as she turned to the door and then exited, turning off his bedroom light but leaving the door ajar behind her.

With a weary sigh, he laid his head back onto his pillow. Sleep was the last thing he wanted, and not because he wasn’t tired. Each and every night, if it wasn’t one nightmare it was another; and he was accustomed to the old nightmares, but this new one was something he couldn’t bring himself to forget as soon as he opened his eyes. 

Everything in the dream was exactly as it had happened, save when he got to the cave. It was the first time he’d been inside since he’d left Ren there years ago, saying, “Alright, see you tomorrow.” When he went in, he didn’t find Ren. Instead, he found the words Ren had scratched on the cave wall, ‘Ren + Rick 4ever,’ and directly across from it what was unmistakably traces of old, dried blood in the tiny ridges and nooks of the rock. Slowly, he let himself down to the cool floor and ran his fingers across the stains. This was where he’d died, in their place, where they’d always been safe together, where Rick could be himself and where they…

_It’s my fault._

And he couldn’t blame Ren for avoiding him. After he’d finally left the cave, after he and his mum had dealt with the police and the coroner and the HVF, he’d called the Walkers and asked to speak with Ren. Steve had sounded cold and perhaps even angry, saying that Kieren didn’t want to speak with anyone. Rick then asked him to let Ren know it was him, but Steve had refused. “He doesn’t want to speak with anyone, Rick,” he’d said again, firmly, but then his tone softened, “but I’ll let him know you called.” 

Steve hadn’t even mentioned his father. _Why would he? Me dad tried to kill his son._ And so, Rick had resolved to leave Ren be. And it was torture, this distance between them, even worse than when he’d left for the army and never heard from him again, forgotten, and probably hated for breaking his promise. He wanted desperately just to see Ren again, even if he only shouted or screamed at him, hit him, anything at all. 

The hours slipped by as Rick mulled the same terrible thoughts in his head over and over again until the light of dawn began to slip through his window. He could hear his mother stirring downstairs and so he got up, trying to muster up the courage to be strong, to be her support. She needed him, he knew, and today was going to be very difficult for her. 

***

At the funeral, Rick’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the Walkers in attendance. And there, between his mum and dad and looking delicately vulnerable, stood Kieren. Rick could see that he wasn’t wearing any of his cover-up mousse and it almost made him smile. _Ren, always the rebel._ It was likely his way of protesting, of sending a ‘fuck you’ to the man who’d tried to kill him for what he was. What better way to throw it in everyone’s faces than to proudly call out the pink elephant like that?

Before long, Rick realized that he was staring, but he didn’t care who saw or noticed. As the minutes passed, a sinking feeling grew within him. Ren never looked up at him, only gazing stoically at Bill’s casket as Vicar Oddie gave the eulogy. And then, suddenly, he looked up. When he saw his pin-prick eyes, Rick felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. He stifled a gasp, and immediately looked away. He didn’t deserve to look at Ren, never mind be in the same space, and so he simply held his crying mother more tightly to him and rested his eyes on his father’s casket. 

After the funeral, Rick and his mother took their time going home to the reception. He didn’t mind, as part of him feared that the Walkers would be there. Seeing Ren at the funeral had been torture enough, but he didn’t know if he could face Ren and his family, not after he’d almost gotten their son killed a second time, never mind the first. Shortly after they arrived, he scanned the faces of those in attendance for Ren, not finding him anywhere, and after shaking dozens of hands and receiving countless condolences, he quietly slipped upstairs to his bedroom. 

Sitting down on his bed, he buried his face in his hands. For the briefest moment, everything had been right with the world. He was back home and Ren was alive, partially at least, but now he’d fucked everything up- again. Rick’s eyes burned with brimming moisture and he squinted, willing the tears away. He tried to calm himself and began to lean back on his bed when he saw Ren, standing in the doorway. Rick couldn’t breathe, frozen by Ren’s sad, beautiful gaze. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t begin to. 

Ren lowered his head and looked off to the side. He sniffed and then choked out, “I’m so, so sorry, Rick.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gifting this work to theundeadsiren for his amazing dedication to this ship. My hat is off to you, dude. There's much more to come and I hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> Likely, it will be obvious that I'm a US native. Sorry for everything I get wrong. I'm given to understand that PDS sufferers can't... cry or produce tears or something, which I find kind of stupid since tear ducts are essential to eye movement and, you know, blinking and stuff, so for the purposes of this fic I'm assuming that they can, in fact, cry (and produce other bodily fluids like... ... ...saliva... yeah, saliva... that's canon, right?). XD
> 
> Anyway, I'll update when I update. I'm a slow writer and that's just how it is. There, you've been warned. Rated T for now, but I suppose it is a possibility that things might happen to get smutty at some point. ;)


End file.
